


How Soon Is Now?

by shirlywats



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Blow Jobs, Feral Derek, Fingering, First Time, Knotting, M/M, Misunderstanding, PWP, Rimming, Smut, derek is stuck in beta form because magic, mainly an excuse for sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-29
Updated: 2016-05-29
Packaged: 2018-07-10 21:33:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7008976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shirlywats/pseuds/shirlywats
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: Short one-shot of Stiles overreacting in the most dramatic way possible to a misunderstanding between him and Derek. I mean who hasn’t avoided coming home from college for 10 months because someone they had a crush on rejected them?</p><p>warning: I don't have a beta. I also suck at proofreading my own stuff. Eh.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How Soon Is Now?

“When you say it's gonna happen "now"  
Well when exactly do you mean?  
See I've already waited too long  
And all my hope is gone  
You shut your mouth  
How can you say  
I go about things the wrong way?  
I am human and I need to be loved  
Just like everybody else does” – The Smiths, “How Soon Is Now?”

“This was not how I’d planned to spend my first college spring break,” Stiles ground out through clenched teeth while holding up his flashlight, swinging it from side to side in a sweeping motion made jerky by his irritation. 

He was looking for footprints, tracks, anything that might be a sign Derek had been through here. He wasn’t seeing anything, but then again he wasn’t looking that closely.

“I don’t know why the fuck Scott thinks I’ll be able to help,” Stiles continued. “Sure, send the human to track down a werewolf magicked out of his mind and scared shitless. ‘Let’s split up, gang, send the human by himself, dur-hur’,” he muttered in his goofiest voice. He thought it was ridiculous that Scott and told them all to go in different directions. There was no way Stiles would be able to find a werewolf that didn’t want to be found when it was dark out.

He heard a snapping noise to his right and stopped abruptly, slowly scanning the area with his flashlight. Maybe this werewolf did want to be found. 

“Derek, is that you?” Stiles asked, making his voice as calm and nonchalant as possible. “Scott said you got whammied by some witch. It’d be great if you stopped being such a pain in the ass and came out now so we can get you back to normal and I can meet Chad at the beach. I had plans. You’re totally ruining my spring break, big guy.”

Nothing.

Stiles continued to slowly scan the area with his flashlight, waiting to hear another sound or see the light reflected in some werewolf eyes. Still nothing. He groaned and dropped his arms to his sides to hang limply, tilted his head up to the sky and sighed. He was so done.

“Fuck this shit. I’m out,” he said finally. 

“Have fun dudes,” Stiles yelled. He was sure everyone with supernatural hearing within a six-mile radius could hear him. “Let me know when you find him. There’s seriously probably nothing I can do. I’m gonna get some sleep and head out tomorrow.” He would text them all in the morning in case no one had actually heard him. 

He was just too tired right now. He’d finished his last midterm earlier in the morning and had driven five hours straight to Beacon Hills after Scott called him saying that some witch had been fucking through town like a whirlwind and, as usual, Derek had thrown himself straight in her line of fire because he’s a martyr or a masochist or some ‘M’ word Stiles wasn’t so sure about because he was too tired to think right now. 

Scott had said she’d hit him with something that had stuck him in his beta form. He’d been like that for a couple of days, but something else was wrong. He wasn’t talking. Totally nonverbal. How’s that different from normal, Stiles had asked. Scott had gotten angry at him for not taking it seriously. Apparently all Derek could do was make animalistic noises. He was going full feral and had eventually crashed through a window in Scott’s house to escape. So far he hadn’t hurt anyone, but everyone was understandably worried.

Stiles was worried, too, but he knew the pack could handle this without him. Scott was Derek’s alpha – if he couldn’t get to Derek, Stiles didn’t know who could. Certainly not Stiles. Derek had made very sure to let Stiles know that Stiles wasn’t very high on his list of favorite things before Stiles had left for college last semester. 

He still cringed when he thought about the last time he saw Derek. They’d started getting closer in the time following their rescue of Derek from the ruins in Mexico. He’d gone briefly with Braeden, but when he came back he became pack. Stiles had actually started learning emissary stuff from Deaton, thinking he might take up the mantle for Scott. In any case, it would be good for someone else besides Deaton to know some emissary work considering the whole dread doctor business and how Deaton had been out of commission and contact forever. Stiles was learning – just in case. Derek was actually helping him with a lot of stuff. After all, he was one of the only naturally-born wolves they had and the only one who actually remembered growing up in a werewolf household. He was born into this stuff, had learned a lot from his parents and grandparents. He was more than happy to share with Stiles.

They’d spent so many nights after Stiles got out of school or lacrosse practice together, poring over books Deaton had given Stiles. Derek was helping to fill in the gaps and helping Stiles to practice some of the magic he was learning. Work sometimes devolved into them just hanging out. They’d watch T.V., eat junk food, and more than once Stiles actually fell asleep on Derek. Derek didn’t seem to mind. One time – the last time they’d hung out – they’d actually… cuddled. Stiles had fallen asleep, head on Derek’s shoulder. When he’d woken up he found himself stretched out on top of Derek who had moved them to lie down on the couch. His head was on Derek’s chest, arm slung over his middle. Derek hand a hand in Stiles’s hair and was running his fingers through the longer fringe at the front. His hand had stilled when Stiles’s heart rate kicked into overdrive.

Stiles remembered feeling so hopeful. He’d had a crush on Derek since the first time he’d saw him in the woods right after Scott had been bitten. He didn’t want to admit it then or for the next year or so after. Derek was his most-of-the-time enemy and sometimes-ally. But they’d saved each other so many times, and they’d worked together to save their friends. After he found out about Kate, about why Derek had been the way he was, he wasn’t as scared of him anymore. He thought he seemed pretty adjusted considering all the lady-murderers who wandered in and out of his life attempting (and sometimes succeeding) to destroy most of his family, friends, and trust in potential dating partners. 

And Derek himself changed after Erica died. Stiles didn’t even try to lie to himself about his feelings for Derek after that, especially when he gave up his power to save Cora. But there had been Jennifer and, after her, Derek left. When he came back things were so hectic that Stiles never got to spend time with him. And then there was Braeden. Even if Stiles had been able to get closer to Derek, what was the point? He was 17, awkward, gangly, and had nothing to offer him. He tried dating Malia instead. Apparently he had a fucking thing for Hales. 

But now… now Stiles was 18. He’d been accepted into college. He already had a place waiting for when he started the semester. He would be staying with his mom’s brother, at least until he saved up for an apartment. He wouldn’t move until a week or so before the semester started, though. He’d have the summer with Derek, he thought. They could do long distance. Derek was the staying type. Derek was totally a Hufflepuff. If Derek wanted him, they could work it out. And Stiles had let himself think that Derek wanted him as he lay there with his head on Derek’s chest and Derek’s hand still in his hair. He had lifted his head and smiled sleepily at Derek, who strangely looked kind of like a deer caught in the headlights. 

Stiles had wiggled his way up Derek’s body, bringing his face close to Derek’s. Derek didn’t move, but he didn’t tell Stiles to get off, either. Stiles had leaned down slowly to give Derek enough time to move away or tell Stiles to stop. He placed a soft kiss on Derek’s lips, barely touching, his own mouth slightly open as he exhaled softly. Suddenly Derek had one hand in Stiles’s hair and the other cupping Stiles’s jaw. He was crushing their mouths together, licking at Stiles’s parted lips. Stiles had opened his mouth wider, allowing Derek to slip his tongue in. The kiss went from sweet and chaste to sloppy and frantic in the time it took Stiles to blink. He felt lightheaded, either from Derek’s mouth on his or all his blood rushing to his dick. He wasn’t sure. He had moaned when he felt Derek’s hard cock digging into his thigh. 

He’d wormed a hand down to touch Derek through his jeans, to cup him and rub his hand up and down his hard length. He couldn’t believe that after years of going through the evolution of his feelings for Derek, from his superficial crush to what he was sure was actual, real love, he was finally at this point. So many times he’d told himself the time was never right. So many times he’d told himself that, even if the time was right, there’d be no way Derek would be interested in him. He had resigned himself to going through this one-sided… whatever it was. At first he didn’t want to say love because that made him feel pathetic, but he didn’t know what else to call it. He’d seen the worst of Derek as a power-hungry alpha who clawed first, asked questions later, and generally fucked everything up with his lack of communication skills and ability to work well with others. But he’d also seen the best in Derek when he showed him that being a leader meant sacrificing himself to save those who followed you, when he mourned his new pack, when he gave up the power he had literally killed for to save his sister, when he fought and almost died for Scott. Derek was softer, sweeter, and there was no way Stiles couldn’t love him. Now, Stiles had thought, there was nothing standing in their way. Now was the time, and he couldn’t believe it.

It turns out he shouldn’t have believed it. In the almost five seconds that had passed after Stiles’s hand had made contact with Derek’s cock, he suddenly found himself being pushed up while Derek slid out from under him and stood. Stiles had sat there, confused. He’d opened his mouth to ask what was wrong but stopped when Derek had tiredly rubbed his hand over his face and sighed, the same look on his face someone might have if they’d dropped a glass and it shattered on the floor – frustrated yet resigned. 

“We can’t do this, Stiles,” Derek had said, his voice tired.  
“Um… Okay?” Stiles hadn’t even tried to hide his confusion. He spoked after a few seconds, “Can I ask what’s wrong?” Derek was quiet for almost a full minute. Stiles had started counting when he realized that if he didn’t do something to distract himself from the silence he was going to break down.

“We just…” Derek began, then stopped. “I just…” he stopped again, looking everywhere in the room but at Stiles’s general direction. Finally, he looked at Stiles. “I just don’t want to,” he said, his voice tired, but firm. “I don’t want to do this, Stiles.” He waved his hand vaguely.

“Oh,” Stiles had said. He could feel heat slowly rising to his face, which was weird because his entire body felt cold. His chest felt tight and his throat suddenly ached with everything he wanted to say but seemed to be physically incapable of. He opened his mouth. He closed his mouth. He blinked quickly a few times, his eyes feeling wet. No, he’d thought to himself. You’re not going to cry. You will not. Fucking. Cry.

“Stiles,” Derek had said, grimacing, his voice still tired. He took a step forward and reached out his hand, like he was making to touch Stiles. Now Stiles was on his feet, moving fast enough to make Derek blink.

“Um, that’s cool,” Stiles said, trying to shrug nonchalantly. The move felt jerky and robotic. “I know, I know. We’re just friends,” he laughed shakily. He felt like a hand was squeezing over his heart as he spoke. “I got a little wrapped up in the moment, I guess, being half asleep and stuff.” He could feel his heart skip. Derek frowned. Stiles knew he’d heard the lie. Derek took another step forward. Stiles took another step back.

“I’m just gonna…” Stiles jerked his thumb at the door. He’d grabbed his shoes from beside the couch and shuffled out of the apartment as fast as he could. He’d put them on when he got to the jeep. Derek called out for him as Stiles flung open the door to the loft and practically started running as soon as he shut it behind himself. He threw his shoes in the passenger seat when he climbed into the jeep. He was worried Derek might follow him and he wanted to leave as soon as possible to avoid that. He peeled out of the parking lot, not looking back as he wiped the back of his hand over his eyes. 

He had managed to not break down until he’d gotten in his room. His dad was still at work so he didn’t try to be quiet. He kept telling himself he shouldn’t be so upset. Derek was never his. Derek had never given any indication that he felt anything for him other than friendship. He didn’t even know whether Derek actually liked guys! There was no reason, he had told himself, for him to feel this upset. He’d been rejected before. Lydia had rejected on a weekly basis for years. It had stung, but he got over it and made a new plan for the next week. This time though, with Derek… He felt gutted. He felt raw. 

After he’d finished crying he had flopped onto his back on his bed in the dark, staring at the plastic glowing stars he’d stuck there when he was thirteen. His heart skipped every time he had heard a noise outside, hoping without telling himself he was hoping that it was Derek, that Derek was coming through his window like he’d done so many times before. That Derek would apologize and tell him he didn’t mean it, that he really did want Stiles. Derek had never come. 

He’d slept so late the next day that his dad was up before him. He could hear him downstairs clinking silverware together. He sat up slowly, rubbing his face. He reached out for his phone, hand going at a glacial pace as he tried to convince himself he wanted to look at it. He touched the screen and saw, as the light came on, that he had four texts. All from Derek. His heart clenched and he swallowed around what felt like a painful lump in his throat. He hit the erase button without reading them. He’d already made up his mind. He stopped by the bathroom to wash his face with cold water before heading downstairs. 

“Hey kiddo, you and Derek up late?” His dad had asked as he filled what was probably his second cup of coffee.

“Uh, yeah,” Stiles answered. “Something like that.” His stomach was clenching nervously over the conversation he was about to have. “You know dad,” Stiles began, trying to sound lighthearted and excited. “I was thinking I might head up to uncle Frank’s early, you know? Maybe look around for some part-time jobs there to work over the summer, something I could keep during the school year for weekends if I think I can manage it with my course load.”

“That’s actually not a bad idea,” his dad said slowly. He was frowning, though. Stiles knew that he knew something was up. “You got a scholarship, though. You won’t really need to work during the school year. You could still get something around here this summer if you want, though.”

“Yeah, I know,” Stiles said, smiling. “I just want to save as much money as possible. The jeep’s kinda falling apart. Who knows what’ll go next and how much it’ll cost to fix it,” he laughed. “Plus,” he said, “I just want to get to know the area. Find all the best burger joints, get out a little, expand my horizons, maybe make some new friends.” He hated playing the ‘I’m growing up and I need my freedom’ card, but he hated the idea of staying here, more.  
“That’s a pretty good idea,” his dad had said. He was smiling, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’ll miss you being around this summer, though.”

“I’m totally gonna miss you, too, dad!” Stiles said, jumping slinging an arm around his dad’s shoulders. “If I get a job I don’t know how much free time I’ll have to come back and visit, but I know you have a ton of vacation time! Frank’s been talking forever about us coming up and staying for a while. You know he loves fishing. Maybe you could come visit?” Stiles asked, hopefully. 

Despite being a big fan of ignoring something until it went away (or blew up in his face), he had never run away from anything that wasn’t trying to actively kill or maim him. But he had known he couldn’t face this. He felt like such a coward. He felt like moving away immediately was a bit of a dramatic reaction to being rejected by Derek Hale. However, he also told himself that he was going to move in a couple of months, anyway. Scott was actually visiting his dad for the next few weeks, the recent events having made them want to try to patch things up. He could probably get Scott to visit him before the term started and Scott had to move into his own dorm. He didn’t have anyone else, besides his dad, that he wanted to say goodbye to. 

The idea of leaving hurt. It scared him. He kept wondering whether it was the right thing to do. Whether he should’ve read Derek’s texts. Whether he should call Derek now. But at the same time the idea of leaving, of starting the next chapter of his life, of growing up a little bit more in a place where no one knew him, was more than a little exciting. He felt like freedom and space was what he needed now. Lots, and lots of space. About four-hundred miles worth of space between him and Derek sounded really great right now.

“I’m definitely helping you move,” his dad said, shaking him out of his thoughts. “We should probably call your uncle first, though. Let him know you’re thinking of coming now. I’ll do that if you want to go ahead and take a shower.”

“Thanks, dad,” Stiles had smiled, hugging his dad again. 

When he got out of the shower his dad called to him from the foot of the stairs and gave him a thumbs up. “Get to packing, we’ve got a road trip!”

Stiles shoved as much of his clothes as he could into three suitcases. Other than that, he was only taking his computer, his xbox and some games, and a few books. Most of what he wanted to read was on the kindle his dad had gotten him for Christmas. He was thankful all over again for a gift that would let him pack light.

The trip to Frank’s had been uneventful. They’d all gone out to dinner that night. Stiles didn’t put up a fight when his dad ordered steak. His dad stayed the night and most of the next day, obviously reluctant to leave Stiles. His eyes were suspiciously wet when they parted from their goodbye hug. Stiles smiled weakly and told him to have a save drive back, to call him when he got home. 

Whenever his dad would call, he would ask Stiles what new places he’d gone to, whether he’d applied for jobs, and so on. Stiles couldn’t very well lie, so he did actually go out to some new places and did actually look for jobs. He even applied for one at a local book store. He was trying his best to keep busy, to get out and do things even though what he really wanted to do was lie in bed and listen Morrissey or Elliott Smith and feel sorry for himself. 

He was starting to feel better until, almost a week later, he looked down at his phone after hearing a text alert. It was Derek. He hadn’t tried to contact him again since the day after he’d rejected him. Stiles deleted the text without reading it. He sat on the edge of his bed and felt buried under the overwhelming pile of shit feelings he’d just started to get over. He got a new phone after that just to get a new number. He’d been using prepaid phones for a while to try to save his dad some money. He knew he could’ve kept his number, but he made the excuse that it was too annoying to deal with the hassle, so he took the new number. Only Scott, his dad, and a few other family members had it. He didn’t even tell Lydia he’d changed it. One more bridge burned and he only felt elated. Freedom, he was finding, was addicting. 

Scott visited him before the semester started and then, once the actual semester started, he didn’t have much time for anything else. He’d gotten the job at the bookstore he’d applied to. His dad came to visit him for a week over winter break because Stiles said he had to work. He actually volunteered to work, but his dad didn’t need to know that. 

Scott was studying pre-vet at a college closer to Beacon Hills to be near the bulk of the pack, so he went back home pretty often. He always kept Stiles updated during their every-other-day skype chats. He learned pretty early on not to talk about Derek. He only asked once what was going on between Stiles and Derek and accepted it when Stiles said he didn’t want to talk about it.

 

Stiles liked his job. He made a couple of friends in almost every class he had. Totally human friends who didn’t know anything about werewolves or kanimas or banshees or fox spirit things that possessed you and turned you evil and made you control a bunch of ninja things that killed one of your close friends. Stiles had even started dating again. It took him almost nine months to get to anything even remotely beyond brief flings, but he’d been seeing Chad for three weeks now. He was an okay guy, a little bit too ‘bro’, but nice enough. Chad made it clear that he liked Stiles. Chad did not send mixed signals. Chad was not ambiguous. This was the main reason why Stiles currently liked Chad. He’d even thought that maybe this beach trip with Chad for Spring break might be when he gave up his virginity – not that he had any special or romantic ideas of virginity. Stiles was constantly giving himself the ‘it’s just sex, it doesn’t matter,’ and ‘don’t get too attached’ talks.

He’d gone almost ten months without going back home. He’d gone almost two months without thinking of Derek on a daily basis. And now he was back in Beacon Hills, giving up his spring break to look for a guy who didn’t want him around. He felt pathetic. 

Well, he came because he was asked. He tried to help. He couldn’t. He was leaving in the morning. The urge to run was already strong. He’d leave right now if he wasn’t so tired, but the beach was hours away and he knew there was no way he’d be able to stay awake. He set his alarm for 6 am, hopefully early enough to get up, caffeinated, and out before anyone could ask him to join anymore search parties. He’d send out a text before he left letting everyone know he was splitsville. Donestown. Gone. He stripped off on his way to the bathroom to take a shower. Anything to save time in the morning. His dad was pulling a double and Stiles kind of regretted that he’d be gone before his dad got back, but it was better than risking getting stuck looking for Derek again.

He didn’t bother turning the light on when he came back into his room with nothing but a towel around his waist. The moon was bright enough that it filtered through the open curtains and illuminated the room.

The open curtains. The curtains that had been closed when he came home. The curtains he had not opened. Because he didn’t do that anymore – open his curtains or windows. He didn’t want to send any inkling of an invitation to any potentially-lurking supernatural creatures. He saw movement in the shadowiest part of the room to his right – golden orbs glowing over six feet off the ground. 

“That you, Liam?” Stiles asked, ignoring the voice in his head that said ‘Liam is not that tall.’ Also ignoring the voice in his head that said, ‘Also your eyes have adjusted well enough that you can see the general outline of this werewolf, and Liam is not that bulky.’ He could not, however, ignore the voice that reminded him that, after the whole rebirth thing or what-the-fuck-ever had happened when Derek de-aged then re-aged then became human-ish before going full-on wolf in Mexico, Derek’s eyes were no longer blue. They were gold now. 

Stiles’s heart skipped a beat as he stared at the eyes. He heard a soft grumbling noise, like a growl but not as menacing as growls generally are. When his heart rate picked up, the eyes began to move closer. Derek, still in beta form, stepped out of the shadows and into a moonlit patch in the middle of the room. Stiles let out an ‘eep’ noise that he would swear was not a squeak, mainly because Derek did not stop moving. Also because Derek was very naked. Of course he was. He was slowly advancing toward Stiles, slightly hunched over. And naked. His arms out like he might spring at any moment. Spring to where, Stiles wasn’t sure. Hopefully not at him. While naked.

“Hey there, big guy,” Stiles said softly, trying to keep his fear from his voice. He was afraid for a lot of reasons. The main one being that he had no idea what state of mind the currently magicked-up Derek was in. The second was because, if he lived, the chances of him having to have A Conversation with the one person he was trying to avoid for the next decade, if not forever, drastically increased. 

When Derek’s growl grew louder, Stiles held up his hands to show that they were empty and turned his face to the side to avoid direct eye contact, which might be seen as a challenge. Unfortunately, bringing his hands up meant that he had let go of his towel. It was still hanging on, loosely folded in on itself around his waist, but he felt slipping with each expansion of his diaphragm as he breathed, however. Two seconds later it fell to the floor with a soft thud. He winced and closed his eyes.

By now Derek was right in front of him, his growling gone softer and almost purr-like. Stiles didn’t dare open his eyes and look directly at him. Whatever happened was going to happen. There wasn’t really any way he was going to outrun a potentially feral werewolf. He almost jolted when he felt Derek’s breath against his throat. His still-raised hands twitched when Derek pressed his nose to Stiles’s neck and began sniffing. 

Stiles held perfectly still, clenching his teeth as Derek snuffled up and down Stiles’s neck. Derek made a whining noise, his hands suddenly on Stiles’s hips as he dragged him closer and shoved his nose under Stiles’s ear. Stiles made a slight “oomph” noise as he was roughly jerked against  
Derek’s body. Derek’s nose traveled from Stiles’s ear to the crook of his neck. He seemed to like that particular area quite a bit seeing as how he spent almost a full minute snuffling and rubbing his nose back and forth. He then traveled further down, shoving his face in Stiles’s armpit. Stiles let out a sharp, involuntary laugh. Derek’s face fur tickledl.

Derek jerked back and looked at him, eyes wide and mouth hanging slightly open. Stiles could tell he was scenting the air. He’d really only ever seen Scott do that once when they were starving and the pizza they’d ordered just came. His saw his uncle Frank’s cats do that all the time, however, especially when they smelled something particularly foul (like one another’s butts) but seemed to enjoy it. He didn’t know whether he should be insulted by Derek making that face after sniffing Stiles’s armpit.

Derek grunted and began licking Stiles’s armpit. Actually licking his fucking armpit. Intellectually Stiles was grossed out by the whole thing. Physically was another story, especially when Derek’s head moved over to swipe his tongue in broad strokes across Stiles’s chest. Stiles sucked in a breath as wet hot pressure ran over his left nipple. His cock began swelling up fast with blood. His arms started shaking from the strain of continuing to hold them up.

Derek stilled for a moment before licking Stiles’s nipple again. This time Stiles moaned. His cock, now fully hard, twitching against his stomach. Derek’s hands were on his hips again and Stiles suddenly found himself being pushed firmly back until the backs of his knees hit his bed. 

“Um, okay…” Stiles said, lowering his hands to brace himself as he tried to crawl back and away from Derek. The bed dipped as Derek placed his knees on either side of Stiles’s legs and began the sniffing-licking game all over again.

“Fuck,” Stiles hissed as he bucked his hips. Derek groaned as they made contact. Stiles took in his naked form, bathed pale in the moonlight. Derek was hard, too, his cock thick and long, jutting heavily from a neatly trimmed nest of black curls. Stiles swallowed and bit his lip. Derek was now alternating between licking every inch of skin he could reach and giving Stiles beard burn by dragging his face all over him. Scent marking.

“Buddy, do you even know what you’re doing?” Stiles asked. “Because last time I saw you, this seemed like a Thing You Did Not Want.”

“S…Stiles,” Derek ground out, his voice wrecked. His face was in Stiles’s again now, eyes wide.

“Derek…?” Stiles asked, surprised. “Do you know what you’re doing?” 

Derek’s reply was lick into Stiles’s mouth, teeth pressing against Stiles’s lips as he ground his cock against Stiles’s. Stiles gripped his duvet and squeezed his eyes shut, unable to fight back a groan.

“Want…” Derek’s growled out, his voice so gravely that Stiles almost couldn’t tell whether he was actually saying real words. But then Derek was moving down, rutting gently against him, making an almost-keening sound at the skin-to-skin contact. Stiles could sympathize.

Derek was moving past Stiles’s nipples now, his clawed hands gently scraping down Stiles’s torso. When Stiles saw where he was heading he sat up, slightly panicked. “Hey buddy,” Stiles said, trying to get Derek’s attention. “You’ve um. You’ve got a few too many very sharp teeth to be doing what it looks like you’re about to do.” 

Derek stopped, his mouth hovering over Stiles’s cock. He rumbled deep in his chest as he raised his eyes to meet Stiles’s. He slowly extended his tongue past his fangs to lap at the precum gathered at the tip of Stiles’s cock. 

“Yeah, um. Yeah, that works, too,” Stiles said breathlessly, worrying his lower lip and spreading his legs wider. Derek started to lick him in earnest, closing his eyes like he was enjoying it just as much as Stiles. 

The torturous licking lasted only a minute or so before Derek started moving down again. This time he was nuzzling and licking Stile’s balls, his wet and hot tongue making its way to his perineum next.

“Fuck,” Stiles ground out, his thighs tensing. 

“Over,” Derek growling, grabbing Stiles’s hips and moving him as though trying to turn him over.

“Okay, okay,” Stiles complied, groaning. “What’s up with you, anyway? Scott said you were all feral and non-communicative. You’re definitely acting weird now, but you’re talking.”

“Want,” Derek ground out, pushing Stiles up onto his knees, his breath hot against Stiles’s ass.

“Yeah, I get that. I’m not saying I’m not enjoying this, but the last time I saw you, you were definitely not down for this kind of activity. This is kind of freaking me out,” Stiles admitted. Derek suddenly stopped rubbing his stubble on Stiles’s left ass cheek.

“Safe,” Derek growled. Stiles turned his head to look at him.

“Are you saying I’m safe?” Stiles asked, meeting his eyes. They were still glowing golden. Derek nodded.

“Stop…” Derek said, his face uncertain. Stiles couldn’t tell if it was a question or a command.

“Are you asking whether I want to stop?” Stiles asked. Derek nodded again. Stiles was quiet for a few seconds, thinking it over. 

Derek wasn’t going to hurt him. There may have been something going on, but he wasn’t as feral as Scott and the others had seemed to think. It was more like his inhibitions had just been stripped away. He wasn’t going to hurt Stiles. Stiles could say no. They could stop this now. Stiles could leave like he’d wanted to. He could go to the beach with Chad, lose his virginity to someone less complicated. This, with Derek, was what he’d wanted for so long. Derek seemed to want it, too. He had no idea whether Derek would still want him if they were able to get him back to normal, though. Stiles wasn’t sure if he could risk his heart again. He couldn’t bring himself to ask. Derek didn’t seem that capable of speaking outside of monosyllabic words, anyway. 

He suddenly wished he had read his texts from all those months ago. Maybe Derek had a reason for rejecting him. Maybe it was a dumb reason, but one they could’ve worked around. Maybe it was wrong to shut him out like Stiles did. He’d missed him so much – not just because he had loved him, but because he’d been Stiles’s friend, too. There had been this constant ache when he cut him off. Scott had said that was probably because Stiles was away from the pack, that even humans could feel the distance to some extent. Scott had tried to hint that Derek felt it, too, tried to ask Stiles to talk to him, but Stiles would have none of it. Now he wondered whether he had missed something. He let himself wonder what would’ve happened if he hadn’t run away like coward. Maybe he was the asshole in this situation. Maybe it was worth risking his pride again.

Derek was still looking at his face when Stiles met his eyes again. Stiles licked his lips and drew in a shuddery breath.

“Don’t stop, Derek.”

The words were like hitting an on-switch for Derek who growled and immediately buried his face in Stiles’s ass. This time he gently parted Stiles’s cheeks with clawed fingers and began sloppily rimming Stiles’s hole. Stiles gasped and fell forward onto his elbows as the force of Derek’s tongue seemed to have the effect of punching the breath right out of him. There was no playful, gentle build up – Derek was trying to shove his tongue into Stiles as far as it would go. Stiles could feel him alternating between licking and trying to suck on his hole, his fangs getting in the way. Derek growled, low and long, the vibrations wet and electrifying against Stiles’s sopping entrance. Stiles cried out from overstimulation, his hands clawing at the blanket on his bed. 

Suddenly, Derek’s mouth was gone. Stiles could feel him standing up, one of his hands returning to his hips. He felt the head of Derek’s cock, slippery with precum, nudge against his entrance. Stiles whipped his head around to see Derek, brows furrowed, holding his own cock in one hand as he slowly slid it back and forth across Stiles’s hole.

“Want…” Derek said, raising his face to meet Stiles’s eyes again. His brows (or at least the ridges where his brows should be) were still furrowed. He looked at his clawed hands, Stiles’s ass, then back at his clawed hands.

“Uh, yeah. Your tongue is definitely not enough prep and I can see how this would be problematic given your current… situation,” Stiles said, assuming Derek was trying to convey that he’d like to stick more than his tongue into Stiles. Derek nodded.

“I can…” Stiles began. “I can do it myself.” Derek’s eyes snapped back up. He growled, squeezing a clawed hand around the base of his dick like the idea of Stiles fingering himself was hot enough that he had to exert some control over himself. Stiles watched a pearl of precum bead on the head of Derek’s cock, his foreskin pulled back to reveal the thick head. Stiles licked his lips, an idea hitting him.

“Here,” Stiles said, sitting up. “Get on the edge of the bed.” Derek growled but complied. 

Stiles shuffled around in his bedside stand for the backup lube he’d left behind. He popped the cap and coated the fingers of his left hand as he settled on his knees on the floor between Derek’s spread legs. He reached down and awkwardly began to rub his entrance. He’d fingered himself many times before, the first time being when he was fourteen and realized maybe he liked guys a little bit. He started doing it almost every time he masturbated after he met Derek, realizing that maybe he liked guys a lot. He’d never fingered himself with his left hand, though, so it was a little awkward, but he really needed his right for his next trick. Leaning forward, he gently placed his hand around the base of Derek’s cock, causing the werewolf to hiss through clenched fangs. Derek kept his hands at his sides, fists clenched as Stiles ran his hand up and down his shaft. His eyes flicked back and forth between Stiles’s finger disappearing into himself and Stiles’s hand stroking his cock. Still holding Derek in his hand, Stiles leaned forward and opened his mouth, keeping his eyes locked on Derek’s. Derek whined, thrusting his hips minutely as he realized what Stiles was about to do. 

Sucking cock was something Stiles could do. He’d had a few one-night stands consisting of hand- and blowjobs before he met Chad. Blowjobs and some fingering were as far as he and Chad had gotten so far. Stiles knew he was good at sucking cock. Everyone told him. 

He leaned forward and licked a hot, wet stripe from the base of Derek’s dick to its tip, holding him steady as he slipped his tongue between the glans and foreskin, swirling it around until he reached the frenulum. A thick, glob of precum slid onto his tongue and Derek growled, his thighs visibly flexing. Stiles pulled Derek’s foreskin back and brought the entire head of his penis into his mouth, moaning as he tightened his lips around Derek’s cock. He slid his mouth down, taking more and more of Derek into his mouth until his lips met his hand, still wrapped around the base of the shaft. Derek was gasping, pupils blown in his golden, glowing eyes. Stiles moaned again as he tasted more precum. He’d never really tasted semen before (aside from his own that one time he experimented). He was always very careful to use protection during oral sex, but he knew that werewolves couldn’t contract or carry diseases. It turns out that he loved the taste of Derek’s cock. If he could, he’d do this every day.

Stiles stuck another finger inside himself and moaned again, thrusting his hips forward into empty air. Derek tore his eyes away from his cock in Stiles’s mouth to watch him finger himself again. He continued to watch as Stiles started sucking him in earnest, giving one of the sloppiest, wettest blowjobs of his life, his eyes burning every time Derek’s dick hit the back of his throat. He was soon adding a third finger, fucking himself with them to the same rhythm he was using to suck Derek off. He finally pulled off, panting.

“I’m ready,” he said, standing and crawling back onto the bed. He poured a generous amount of lube onto Derek’s dick before wiping his hand off on his duvet and shifting to his hands and knees, looking over his shoulder at Derek. Derek stood behind him, chest heaving, cock an angry red-purple color and leaking copious amounts of precum. He climbed onto the bed behind Stiles, rubbing the head over Stiles’s entrance as he’d done earlier. He put his hands and Stile’s hips and started moving him to the side. Stiles looked around, confused.

“Face,” Derek grunted, staring intently at Stiles and continuing to push him over.

“You want to see my face?” Stiles asked. Derek nodded, pushing again. “Oh… Okay.” Stiles rolled over onto his back, put a pillow under himself, and pulled his knees up. Derek immediately moved forward and leaned over Stiles, caging him with his body. Stiles wrapped his calves around Derek, crossing his ankles where they met at the small of Derek’s back. Derek bent his head to lick into Stiles’s mouth again. Stiles could taste himself. He found it hotter than he thought he would. He was discovering all kinds of kinks tonight he’d have to explore later.

Derek slowly began to push the fat head of his cock into Stiles’s hole. Stiles was used to his fingers and had a vibrator, but it was a skinny thing that didn’t open him up nearly as much as Derek was doing now. He was breathing harshly, taking in the sensation of being stretched so wide for the first time by another cock. It was hot and wet and hard inside him and he clenched experimentally. Derek stopped moving and growled, closing his eyes.

“Not,” Derek said, voice rough and desperate.

“Not?” Stiles asked. “Are you telling me not to squeeze you like that again?” He was confused, thinking that the act would feel good to Derek. Derek shook his head frantically.

“Not,” he growled emphatically. He grabbed one of Stiles’s hands and moved it between their bodies to where they were joined. He placed Stiles’s hand on the base of Derek’s cock. Stiles could feel a slight bulge that wasn’t there before. His eyes widened.

“You mean KNOT?!” Stiles exclaimed. “You mean that’s fucking real? Werewolves really do that?” Stiles dick leaked at the thought of Derek knotting him. Derek looked momentarily panicked and Stiles realized that Derek might’ve thought he was rejecting him. He grabbed Derek’s face with his free hand and turned it back toward him when Derek tried to look away.

“Derek… Hey… I want it,” Stiles said softly. Derek opened his eyes and looked at him again. “I want your knot, Derek. Would you like to knot me?”

“Please,” Derek practically whined, pushing into Stiles a little more. He’d still only had just the tip of his cock in throughout the entire interaction. 

“Yes,” Stiles moaned, shifting his hips up to try to force more of Derek into himself. “I want you to knot me, Derek. I want you to fuck me, to fill me up with your come, then knot me to keep it inside me. Will you do that for me?” He asked, breathless. Derek whimpered again and jerked, sliding slowly, inch by inch, the rest of the way into Stiles’s body. He stopped when he bottomed out, both of them gulping in sharp, ragged breaths, Derek growling intermittently as he allowed Stiles time to adjust.

“You can move now,” Stiles whispered, shifting his hips experimentally. Derek growled again and leaned down further to rest his forearms on either side of Stiles’s head. He licked Stiles’s throat as he began to rock back and forth, moving out just a little bit more and shoving in just a little bit harder with each thrust. Although the full sensation was foreign and uncomfortable at first, Stiles began to acclimate. His erection, which had flagged slightly, came back full force when Derek reached down to lift Stiles’s hips slightly, effectively changing the angle so that he was hitting his prostate.

“Fuck!” Stiles exclaimed. Derek stopped, startled, looking at Stiles’s face to determine whether he’d hurt him “Don’t you fucking stop!” Stiles begged, moving his hips desperately to try to fuck himself on Derek’s cock. “Fuck me, Derek.” Derek complied, grinning around his fangs as he pulled out until just the tip remained inside Stiles before shoving back in. Not as fast as Stiles would like. 

“Harder!” Stiles demanded. Derek complied.

Derek continued to lick every part of Stiles he could reach – his mouth, his throat, his collarbone – as he fucked into him in tight, controlled thrusts, repeatedly hitting Stiles’s prostate. Stiles thought he should feel embarrassed by the moans and whimpers that seemed to pour out of him, but all he could do was try to breathe as his hands grabbed Derek’s sweaty arms, his shoulders, anywhere he could reach to try to steady himself through the most intense experience he’d ever felt. He could feel bursts of precum escaping his own cock almost every time Derek pounded his prostate. His lungs were on fire. He abdominal muscles were aching from the contractions of pleasure that kept wracking his body. Usually his orgasms built at a slow and steady pace, predictable and expected. This time, however, it was hitting him like a freight train, fast and intense.

“Fuck, Derek – I’m… I’m gonna…” He didn’t finish his sentence, his breath stolen as Derek fucked into him even harder, growling. Stiles threw his head back, mouth open, gasping Derek’s name, feeling his orgasm ripped out of him in hot, liquid pulses that landed on his stomach. Derek’s thrusts became frantic and he leaned down, his fangs against Stiles’s throat as he continued to fuck him through his orgasm. Stiles whimpered as Derek seemed to grow impossibly bigger, stretching him further. His knot, Stiles thought, moaning again. Derek gave one, two, three more sharp thrusts before he stilled, buried to the hilt in Stiles’s ass, growling and trembling. Stiles imagined he could feel Derek filling him up. He definitely wasn’t imagining the bulging knot, growing bigger and slipping inside of him, effectively locking the two of them together. 

Stiles could feel Derek’s heartbeat against his chest, strong and fast as he continued to breathe laboriously. Even after his breathing started to slow down he continued to thrust minutely, as much as the knot would allow. The motions rubbed against Stiles’s prostate. He moaned, his dick giving an interested twitch despite feeling slightly oversensitive. Derek finally leaned up, looking at Stiles’s face.

“Okay.” His voice was raw, probably from all the growling.

“Are you asking whether I’m okay?” Stiles’s voice was also raw, probably from all the moaning. Derek nodded. “Yeah, I’m great. Fan-fucking-tastic,” he grinned. “How about you?” Derek’s only answer was to smile back, nod, and rotate his hips in a way that made Stiles think about the online erotica he’d read where men had multiple orgasms. He explained this to Derek, whose only response was to growl again in a way that might have been laughter before leaning down to lick into Stiles’s mouth again. 

 

After his werewolf version of French kissing was done, he moved his hands down Stiles’s thighs, wrapping Stiles’s legs more tightly around himself before wrapping his own arms around Stiles’s middle like a full body hug. Stiles suddenly found them rolled over, their positions reversed so that he was on top of Derek with Derek still inside him. Stiles blinked, adjusting his legs so that he was comfortably straddling the werewolf.

“Hm, good idea,” Stiles said, snuggling his face into Derek’s chest. “I’m not sure I could survive you falling asleep on top of me.” His laughed turned into a moan as Derek held his hips still and gave him a shallow thrust, rubbing against his prostate again. “Nng,” Stiles grunted, eyes fluttering shut.

“Nap sounds good,” Stiles muttered in a tired voice. He sighed as he felt Derek’s hands, still clawed, gently cradling the back of his head. Just before drifting off he had the thought that this position – him on Derek’s chest, Derek’s hand in his hair, was similar to the position they were in the last day he’d seen Derek. 

_____________

When Stiles woke the next morning he was on his back and empty. He felt sore, but in a good way. He’d also been cleaned up at some point as both his stomach and ass seemed to be blessedly free of dried jizz. He turned his face to see a very human-looking Derek sleeping next to him. He blinked. He reached over Derek for his phone, picking it up off the bedside table. He needed to tell Scott that Derek seemed back to normal. Unlocking the screen he saw that he had five missed texts, all from Scott.

From: Scott  
10:48 PM  
Stiles, I heard you – please don’t leave. If anyone can get through to Derek, it’s you. We need you. Derek needs you.

Stiles’s heart stuttered and he turned away from his phone, eyes raking over Derek’s still sleeping face.

From: Scott  
11:00 PM  
I promised him I wouldn’t say anything, but I feel like I have to now. Derek misses you. He was torn up after you left. It’s been bad these past 10 months. I don’t know what happened between you two, but please stay. I think it might help him.

Stiles clicked the next message.

From: Scott  
11:20 PM  
I can’t believe you’d do this, Stiles. You’ve never been the type to leave a friend behind when they needed you. Even if you don’t love Derek back or feel the same way or whatever, I thought you’d at least care what happens to him. Derek deserves better.

Stiles blinked, mouth hanging open. Feel the same way as Derek? Love him back? What the hell was Scott talking about. Frowning, he clicked the next message.

From: Scott  
2:00 AM  
Just letting you know we found the witch. Lydia got her to undo the spell. She won’t be bothering anyone anymore. And no, I didn’t kill her. If you want to leave, go. We’re still going to look for Derek. He should be back to normal now so it won’t be hard to find him.

So that explained why Derek looked human again. Stiles bit his lip, suddenly nervous about Derek’s reaction when he woke. He seemed to be heartily consenting last night, but what if he changed his mind when he woke up? What if it was going to be a repeat of last time? But Scott had said that Derek… loved him? Was he wrong? He clicked the next and final message

From: Scott  
2:20 AM  
I um… followed Derek’s scent to your house. I was worried that maybe you hadn’t been answering because he hurt you when he was feral, so I let myself in with the key you gave me to check on you and well. I found Derek. But, um. It looks like you found him first? Congratulations? I hope this means you two patched things up and he’ll stop moping. 10 months was enough.

“Hey.”

Stiles jerked and nearly dropped his phone as he turned toward the sound of Derek talking, his gravelly voice rumbling in his chest. Stiles took in his mussed hair as Derek looked up at him through half-lidded blue-green eyes. His skin looked golden and warm in the sunlight that gently filtered through the window.

“Hey, you,” Stiles answered, setting his phone down and smiling hesitantly. Derek smiled back and reached his hand up, cupping the side of Stiles’s face and brushing his thumb over his cheekbone.

“Long time no see,” Derek stated. Then frowned. “Did I…” he started. “Did I… force you last night?” Stiles grabbed the hand caressing his cheek and held there when Derek tried to pull away.

“No, I was very much into it. But what about you?” Stiles asked, biting his lower lip. “What was that all about? Was it only because of what the witch did?”

“No.” Derek shook his head. “No, I wanted it. I have wanted it.”

“Have?” Stiles asked. “Scott sent me some, um, very interesting texts last night. About you. And feelings. And honestly I’m feeling a little lost here buddy. Pretty confused. None of this seems to line up with the massive rejection you doled out the last time I saw you.” Derek winced.

“I tried to tell you,” Derek groaned, falling onto his back and staring at the ceiling. He rubbed his hand over his face and Stiles’s stomach knotted itself at the familiarity of the expression. It was similar to the one he wore the day he told Stiles he didn’t want to be with him. Derek seemed to pick up on his anxiety and was suddenly up on his elbows, his face close to Stiles’s. He looked back and forth between Stiles’s eyes and his lips before finally leaning in and placing a chaste, closed-mouth kiss on the corner of Stiles’s mouth.

 

“Tried to tell me what?” Stiles asked when Derek pulled back. “’I don’t want this’ seemed like a pretty clear statement to me. Like something that didn’t really need to be explained,” he said, tone sharp. Derek winced again.

“I wish you would’ve read my texts. Or answered my calls. Or not changed your number,” Derek said. “I actually drove up to see you once. I saw you through the window of the bookstore where you worked and realized how fucking creepy I was. Maybe you weren’t serious that day, just like I’d been afraid you weren’t, and there was I was about to make an ass of myself in the most creepy way possible. I left without talking to you.” 

Stiles gaped.

“What do you mean, maybe I wasn’t serious?” Stiles asked.

“I thought you were just… fooling around,” Derek answered, averting his eyes. “After Kate and Jennifer, hell, even after Braeden told me she wasn’t serious and had only seen me as an ally and temporary stress relief, it was hard for me to trust that anything was real.” Derek’s voice was small but his words were powerful enough to fracture Stiles’s heart.

“Derek, you know I would never hurt you like that. How could you lump me in with Kate and Jennifer?” Stiles was the one reaching out now, cupping Derek’s face. 

“I know you would never hurt me on purpose,” Derek said hurriedly. “But you’d been chasing after Lydia as long as I’d known you. Even when you were with Malia. I was worried I might be just another placeholder. A benchwarmer, I guess. I was worried you weren’t serious and that I’d only get hurt. I was trying to tell you that I didn’t want to be with you unless you were serious. I was trying to tell you that I wasn’t going to settle for being second place or a consolation prize. I wouldn’t have been able to take it. I wanted you so much and I needed to mean as much to you as you meant to me. But you kind of ran before I had the chance,” Derek finished abruptly, eyes searching Stiles’s face.

“God I am such a fucking idiot,” Stiles choked out, tears in his eyes. “I thought you were just telling me no. I thought you didn’t want me at all. I didn’t even give you a chance to explain. I’m so, so sorry.” His face felt hot and his throat felt tight.

“I even tried to come by the next day, but you were gone. When your dad finally came back he’d said you’d moved early. I didn’t know if it was because you were just excited to leave for college or… or if it was because of what happened. Between us,” Derek clarified.

“I overreacted when I thought you rejected me,” Stiles grimaced.

“Is that why you got a new number, too?” Derek asked.

“Um…” Stiles winced.

“You really are an idiot,” Derek laughed then, but pulled Stiles in for a kiss. They made out, Stiles not caring about their disgusting morning breath as their tongues leisurely tasted one another. 

“So, ten months of pure agony and now things are just… fine?” Stiles asked. Derek shrugged.

“I think we’re both pretty dense when it comes to a lot of things. And maybe a little emotionally constipated. We’ll probably have other fights, but I think we can get through them. I want to try. I really do. I think after all we’ve been through we can handle a long-distance relationship,” Derek said, his voice hopeful.

Stiles leaned forward and kissed him again. “When did you get so wise and all stable-sounding?” He laughed as he said this, but he was also impressed with how communicative Derek was being compared to his past tactics of just throwing people against walls to get his point across.

“It’s something I’ve been trying to work on, you know? I’ve even been in therapy,” Derek answered. Stiles blinked.

“Good for you,” he smiled, genuinely happy. “I’m so glad you’re finally taking care of yourself. You’ve been through so much.”

 

“You have too,” Derek replied. “Maybe it’s something you should think about?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Maybe,” Stiles nodded. “Especially if it’s going to make me a relationship Yoda like you!” He laughed as Derek shoved him down and climbed on top of him, cupping his face with both hands and kissing him deeply. 

“Weren’t you complaining last night about some spring break thing I was ruining?” Derek asked suddenly as he pulled back.

“Um, maybe? It’s not something that matters anymore, though,” Stiles muttered. “Were you just following me around while I was looking for you?”

“Yeah,” Derek said, sheepish. “I came in through your window while you were taking a shower. I’m not sure what the witch did. I was still me but it was like things were… Simpler? Like the wolf side of me was more in charge. I think she was hoping the wolf taking over would make me aggressive and dangerous, maybe take some of the heat off her if everyone else had to stop me. If I’d been a bitten rather than born wolf I might’ve had a harder time. Since I’ve had my whole life to learn control and learn to be at peace with my wolf, though, it wasn’t that bad. I really only got aggressive when people stopped me from doing what I wanted or something. When I saw you in the woods… I knew you. Everything I’d felt before that I’d tried to control, it just all came to the surface. I’d wanted you for a long time and the wolf part of me just said to go for it. It didn’t understand why I was dicking around. I didn’t think about the fight or the fact that I’d been heartbroken for almost a year. I just kept thinking ‘my mate is back’ and I just needed to be with you,” he finished.

“Yeah, I could definitely tell that you wanted to get up close and personal and,” Stiles stopped, losing his train of thought. “Did you say mate?” Derek blushed. Stiles thought it was cute how it seemed to reach even the tips of his ears. Derek nodded.

“Does Scott know this is a thing? Because he totally told me it wasn’t. Has he been lying to me this whole time?” Stiles huffed. 

“You’re impossible,” Derek groaned, lightly pushing at Stiles’s shoulder. Stiles smiled and kissed him.

“Maybe, but you know you love me,” Stiles said, his voice quiet.

“Yeah, I do,” Derek replied, his smile was small and soft, his eyes warm. Stiles felt something inside himself unclench, like he was letting out a breath he hadn’t know he’d been holding.

“And I love you, Sourwolf.” He leaned down to kiss Derek again.


End file.
